


Unconscious

by Ruriska



Series: Sleeping Habits [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Shimadacest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriska/pseuds/Ruriska
Summary: Hanzo takes what he wants.





	Unconscious

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to Awake that was kinda requested but what I've actually written is probably nowhere close to what anyone wants. Oops.
> 
> I'll say it once: read the tags! Don't come crying to me if you miss the warnings.

It isn’t strange for Genji to be drunk; he seems to spend most of his time inebriated to some degree - but it is strange for him to be _this_ drunk. The stumbling, slurring kind with wandering hands, falling onto Hanzo’s bed gracelessly and hitting the wooden side with his knee; it must have hurt, judging by the sound it makes, but he doesn’t react. Too far gone to feel pain. 

He mumbles something unintelligible, it sounds like an apology; lays his head on Hanzo’s leg and nuzzles him through the covers. 

Hanzo suspects there is far more in Genji’s system than just alcohol and he doesn’t have the patience to deal with it. Not at four in the morning, not with a week of avoidance and awkward silences during family dinners leaving his temper on a knife’s edge already. He isn’t surprised that Genji had run. His brother is a coward; afraid of duty, afraid of being a Shimada, afraid of his own desires.

His foolish brother would jerk himself off with Hanzo sleeping beside him and then flee from the realisation of what he had done. Hanzo had been left with his cock throbbing; Genji’s moans still in his ears. Despite his fierce need, he had let it be. Frustration still bubbles under his skin.

He pulls himself up the bed and frees his leg from the blankets, braces his bare foot against Genji’s shoulder and pushes. His brother gives no resistance, just crumples onto his side and stays there. Hanzo flicks the table lamp on and Genji’s flinches at the sudden light, eyes squinting. He whines slightly in protest.

“Go to your own bed,” Hanzo commands. He has ordered when to his death with this voice. Genji only smiles. His eyes, when he rolls them upwards towards his brother, are bloodshot, pupils blown wide. His makeup is a mess, the eyeliner a smudgy halo of black.

Hanzo gets up and when Genji reaches for him - so predictable - , he grabs him cruelly around the wrist and pulls.

It achieves nothing more than to straighten Genji diagonally across the large bed, head turned to the side, eyes closed.

“Genji,” Hanzo snaps, looming over him, slapping his brother’s cheek lightly. Just enough to sting. “Genji?” The only response is a slight snore; the battle is lost. His bed has been taken over.

“You fool,” he murmurs, looking down at his brother in the soft light of the lamp. His tousled green hair, shirt rucked up to show off the pale skin of his back, mouth partly opened, a smear of lipstick on his cheek. Beautiful. Dearest Genji; his drugged up, idiot brother who can live his debaucherous lifestyle with no consequence as Hanzo fights every day to live up to a mountain of expectations. 

A sigh runs through him, long and heavy, and he is walking around the bed to Genji’s feet.

He removes Genji’s boots, unties the laces and eases them off one at a time. High-heeled lace up boots, ridiculous. They must cost a fortune. He tosses them roughly aside, hopes bitterly that he snaps a heel with the harsh treatment. Knows that if they have withstood Genji on a night-out, nothing will break them.

When Hanzo begins to undo Genji’s belt, he isn’t trying to be gentle; he is careless in how he tugs the leather free, jostling his brother’s limp form. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of his tight jeans and pulls. It is only in the action of pulling downwards, revealing the swell of Genji’s ass - no underwear, _of course_ \- does Hanzo realise exactly what he’s doing. His gut clenches, heat rushes through his body.

He continues, swallowing hard, down over the curve of Genji’s ass, barely able to tear his gaze away as he finally drags the jeans away from Genji’s feet and drops them to the floor.

Genji laid out before him, only his shirt on, legs parted where Hanzo left them. The dark swell of his balls is visible, lightly covered in wiry hairs. There are bruises on his hips and on his thighs, the impression of fingertips left in the skin.

Hanzo is careful now, barely daring to breathe as he leans over, one hand on the mattress and the other hovering over Genji’s bare skin. He allows himself the touch, hand landing on firm flesh, covers up some of the bruises. 

The memory is vivid; his brother writhing beside him, all pretence gone, the moans, the harsh breaths, the heat from his body overwhelming. 

Hanzo holds his position, heart hammering in his throat, for a long minute. He isn’t sure what he is waiting for but he waits anyway, until he feels ready to move his hand, up to Genji’s ass, over his firm cheeks and in between, seeking the puckered hole. His thumb finds it first, dips in and pushes carefully -- and finds barely any resistance. Genji has been fucked and fucked recently.

Hanzo bares his teeth. That knowledge is an angry red-hot fist around his chest. His thumb digs in deeper. Still wet with cum and lube. He isn’t sure where his rage ends and his lust begins. It’s a jumbled mess, a purely visceral wanting, doubled by echoing emotions deep within his skin. They don’t have voice but he still hears them, their furious wanting, _mine mine mine, take it, take it all_. 

He steps back, gives himself distance. It doesn’t make a difference. His decision is already made.

It settles on him like a balm, puts a leash on his seething emotions. 

This is his by right.

He deserves this.

There’s lube hidden in his bottom drawer. He retrieves it and unclothes, prepares himself with detached precision. He watches Genji as he does so, times each glide of his hand with his brother’s deep breathing.

His brother had come to him first. Genji is a whore; he can hardly complain when and where he is used. If he was awake, he would surely reciprocate. They have been dancing around each other for so long. 

Hanzo doesn’t really need the justifications but he lets them run through his mind anyway. 

Hanzo doesn’t hesitate but he moves slowly as he climbs onto the bed, careful not to disturb his brother’s sleep. He settles over him, holding his weight on his arms and lowering himself gently down until they are skin to skin, his flushed skin pressed against Genji’s. His cock throbs where it’s pressed into the cleft of Genji’s ass.

He nuzzles at Genji’s neck, breathes in deep; he stinks of sweat, alcohol and sex, made extra sour by a generous application of cologne. He can taste it all on the skin when he kisses Genji’s neck, sucking until he leaves a red mark in the skin.

If he wants to, he can stop. Now. He hasn’t transgressed so far that it cannot be redeemed.

Genji will not know the difference. 

Instead he pushes into his brother, guiding himself with his hand. The blunt head of his cock needs to be worked past the rim but once he is inside Genji is loose and pliant, accepting him with ease and Hanzo takes it as another sign that this is exactly where he is supposed to be. Genji has teased him long enough. 

Hanzo lets out a shuddering breath. 

As he presses deeper into his sleeping brother, he leans his weight to the side and uses his hand to pull one cheek to the side to make it even easier. His thumb massages the firm flesh, comforting someone not awake to appreciate it. Then he has reached his limit, balls deep, body quivering from head to toe. He rolls back over him, smothers Genji with his bulkier body. For a long time he stays like that, breathing deep and simply _feeling_. 

His tattoo burns.

Hanzo pulls back slightly, pauses with his face close to Genji’s, studying every soft sound and flutter of his eyelashes, before he continues. He begins rocking slowly, hips moving agonizingly slow, each thrust gentle and almost tender.

Genji sleeps on.

That face slack with sleep, mind lost to drugs, utterly vulnerable. 

“Good-,” his voice breaks, he swallows, continues his movements. “You feel so good.”

He transfers his weight to one hand, tentatively reaches out with the other to wrap around the back of Genji’s neck. His fingers coil, press down until he feels that slow heartbeat and he is nearly overwhelmed by the rush of power it gives him. Genji is defenceless here. If Hanzo wanted, he could choke the life out of him.

The thought is as terrifying as it is arousing.

He removes his hand, clammy with sweat, to the blankets beside Genji’s head instead of answering that dark urge. How magnanimous. Such a good brother. That new horrible rush pushes him to increase his pace, so that he is driving himself into his brother’s welcoming ass with greater force. His hips snap faster and faster, finally pulling a groan up from deep in his chest. 

Genji snuffles and moans softly but he’s surely too fucked up to wake and Hanzo is too far gone to stop even if he did.

Heat pools in his belly, the pressure is building, but it isn’t enough and he is forced to race towards that edge with powerful thrusts. Heedless of the sleeping body his fucking into that jolts like a ragdoll. 

There’s a confused sound, a wheeze of air from beneath him and Hanzo looks down at Genji’s face. His eyes are partially open, spaced out, confused, drool at the corner of his mouth. With every snap of Hanzo’s hips, his head shifts, bends awkwardly.

“Hanzo...”

It’s a soft sigh, an uncertain sound, barely recognizable as his name and perhaps Hanzo is only hearing what he wants to but it is enough. It feels as if he’s been electrified. He doesn’t even have enough breath to moan through his orgasm. It thunders through him, sends jolts through his body until he’s a quivering, desperate mess, buried deep and filling his brother up with every last drop.

“Genji, Genji, Genji,” he pants his mantra into green hair.

There is no reply.

Genji is gone again.

He has sunk back into the depths and Hanzo collapses above him, feels the first stirrings of shame as his lust recedes. It immediately starts to fester as he stumbles away towards the shower. He can’t look back towards his brother, left exposed on the bed, cum drooling from his ass. He can’t think about how he wants to go back and punish him for making Hanzo want him so badly, enough to want to choke the very life out of him.

Most of all he hates that deep, deep down, he doesn’t regret it at all.


End file.
